strange devastation. The street was scattered with the wreck of
furniture and strips of precious stuffs. As he arrived at the foot of
the little flight of steps that led to the entrance gate, he saw that the
windows were broken and the remains of torn curtains were fluttering in
front of them. Not understanding what this disorder could mean, he
rushed into the house and through several deserted and wrecked
apartments. At last, seeing light in one of the rooms, he went in, and
there found his mother sitting on the remains of a chest made of ebony
all inlaid with ivory and silver. When she saw Caesar, she rose, pale
and dishevelled, and pointing to the desolation around her, exclaimed:

"Look, Caesar; behold the work of your new friends."

"But what does it mean, mother?" asked the cardinal. "Whence comes all
this disorder?"

"From the serpent," replied Rosa Vanozza, gnashing her teeth,--"from the
serpent you have warmed in your bosom. He has bitten me, fearing no
doubt that his teeth would be broken on you."

"Who has done this?" cried Caesar. "Tell me, and, by Heaven, mother, he
shall pay, and pay indeed!"

"Who?" replied Rosa. "King Charles VIII has done it, by the hands of his
faithful allies, the Swiss. It was well known that Melchior was away,
and that I was living alone with a few wretched servants; so they came
and broke in the doors, as though they were taking Rome by storm, and
while Cardinal Valentino was making holiday with their master, they
pillaged his mother's house, loading her with insults and outrages which
no Turks or Saracens could possibly have improved upon."